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  • Writer's pictureAntithesis Journal

The Limey: Steven Soderbergh’s Psychological Analysis of Memories

by Moon Abbott

for Cinema Analysis and Criticism


Directed by Steven Soderbergh, The Limey (1999) follows British ex-convict Wilson on his journey to avenge the suspicious death of his estranged daughter, Jenny. Wilson travels to L.A. with a plan to kill Terry Valentine, Jenny’s seedy ex-boyfriend. Along the way, he befriends two of Jenny’s former colleagues, Eduardo and Elaine. The Limey provides audiences with a psychological characterization of Wilson by using a non-linear editing technique to represent Wilson’s memory. Many shots and scenes in the film seem to be randomly placed and staggered, which can appear a bit jarring at first. However, upon further inspection and deeper analysis, there is no doubt that this editing is necessary for Soderbergh’s take on reflection and remembrance in Wilson and Jenny’s relationship.


One of the best examples of the film’s thematic editing style to bring the audience inside Wilson’s memory takes place during a party sequence in the house of Terry Valentine. Wilson and Eduardo manage to make their way into Valentine’s mansion. Triggered by the sight of Valentine and his young new girlfriend who looks all too similar to the late Jenny, we watch Wilson imagine how he will kill Valentine. Both the sound and visual editing of this scene make it clear that we are inside Wilson’s head as this happens. The typical chatter of a party cuts out when Wilson sees Valentine, and instead we hear the faintest sound of waves crashing. We are aware that the following shots of Wilson walking up to Valentine and shooting him in the chest are imagined because of this change in sound design. The sound of the gunshot is abruptly interrupted by a jump cut back to Wilson’s close-up, staring at Valentine and his girlfriend, telling us that we have snapped back to reality. A similar sequence of shots happens immediately after this, only this time Wilson has physically moved himself closer to Valentine. This insinuates that his visions are getting more intense. A third gunshot occurs in what seems to be reality as we can hear the indistinct party conversations instead of the waves. Wilson shoots Valentine in the head this time— the most brutal killing of the ones we’ve seen. We quickly learn that this was again Wilson’s imagination with a match cut back to Valentine and his girlfriend staring back at Wilson, unharmed. Eduardo swoops in to prevent Wilson from taking any sort of actual action, proving that Valentine was never killed, and it was all in Wilson’s head. Because the visions grow more intense as the scene plays out, we better understand Wilson’s motivation in the story and how obsessed he is in terms of reaching his goal. Soderbergh uses this scene to enforce the idea that our memories are what motivate us to make decisions. The abrupt jump cuts from casual to chaotic in this scene are a juxtaposition of Wilson’s memory to his imagination. We know as an audience that even though he did not actually kill Valentine, it is all that he can think about and is driven to do.


While the party scene gives great insight into how memory affects Wilson, there is another important editing choice throughout the entire film that is crucial to Soderbergh’s overall interpretation of memory. At various points in The Limey, a shot of Wilson sitting on an airplane is cut into segments. This shot is not given meaning until the end of the film when it is revealed that it takes place on Wilson’s plane ride home after all of the events in the film have already occurred. Looking back at the film after understanding the shot of Wilson on the plane, we see how Soderbergh insinuates that we are watching Wilson’s memories by cutting the shot into specific scenes. This technique can be found working simultaneously with another editing style in which the film often cuts between different timelines within the same scene. A scene with Eduardo towards the beginning of the film provides the perfect example of this.


The scene begins with Eduardo and Wilson sitting together at a table reminiscing about Jenny. Eduardo tells Wilson about Jenny’s life in L.A. We follow one fluid conversation between the two, yet the film cuts from the table setting to Eduardo and Wilson in a car, and back again. This is an interesting editing choice as it could very easily confuse the viewer going from one location to another within the same scene and dialogue. Typically, a change of location indicates a new scene entirely, but Steven Soderbergh challenges this rule of thumb throughout The Limey as a way of portraying memory as jumbled and confusing. A key factor in this scene is the shot of Wilson on the plane, which is cuts into the conversation between Wilson and Eduardo as locations change. This plane shot gives the varying locations purpose. By cutting Wilson’s close-up on the plane in-between scenes like the one with Eduardo, it suggests that the seemingly staggered order of shots and locations are just bits and pieces of Wilson’s memory. Shots appear to be out of order because it is the way Wilson is recalling them while he is on his plane ride home from L.A. This editing style is very common in the film, which is Soderbergh suggesting to the audience that memories are not necessarily remembered in chronological order or accurately. This also adds dimension to Wilson’s character as we watch him struggle to piece together all of the information he has gathered about Jenny.


Soderbergh uses a similar editing technique to make yet another observation about memory with a scene featuring Elaine. In their conversation, Wilson reflects on his strained relationship with his daughter. Between shots of Wilson and Elaine conversing, not only do we see the plane shot, but we also get a glimpse of Jenny as a young girl via flashbacks. Wilson has been in and out of prison his entire life, leaving a slim amount of memories of him and his daughter together. There are a limited number of shots of young Jenny seen in this scene, and we barely even see Jenny throughout the entire film, mirroring the fact that Wilson has a limited amount of memories of her. This is done to show how memories can fade as time progresses, and as a way to sympathize with Wilson because he missed his chance to create those memories. Wilson tells Elaine about how young Jenny would often threaten to call the police on him. We see a shot of Jenny as a child doing just this, phone in hand. Yet again we are in Wilson’s head. Elaine makes a point to tell Wilson that Jenny would have never actually turned him in, and Wilson says that he knew Jenny’s phone bit was always just a joke. Before cutting back to Wilson and Elaine, we see the shot of Wilson on the plane, reinforcing the concept of being in Wilson’s head to observe his memories. The contents of this scene in particular are important to the scene where Wilson confronts Valentine on the beach, which ties together elements that enforce the constant theme of memory throughout the story.


As Wilson has Valentine pinned down on the sand, he says the words that were heard at the beginning of the film before the picture began: “tell me about Jenny.” On top of that, we hear the familiar sound of the nearby waves crashing. This is why waves sounds were used in the scene when Wilson imagines killing Valentine, insinuating that Wilson was thinking about this beach confrontation during his recollection of the party. Valentine tells Wilson the truth about Jenny’s supposed accidental death. In another series of flashbacks, Valentine claims that he had to kill Jenny or else she would have called the police on him, defending himself because she had the phone in her hand. We see this in the flashback, followed by a match cut of the same flashback we had seen before of young Jenny, phone in hand. Referring back to the scene with Elaine, both Wilson and the audience know that Jenny would have never actually called. Wilson, in the perfect position to kill Valentine, unhands him instead after learning how his daughter truly died. This grim realization brings forth the idea that memory, although a non-physical concept, is the pinnacle of existence itself. Soderbergh developed Wilson’s character in a way so that when we get to this scene on the beach, we understand that Wilson so dearly clings onto his memory. By leaving Valentine alive, Wilson acknowledges that although an intangible concept, memory is all that could possibly be left of Jenny now that she no longer exists. If Wilson had killed Valentine, he would have gained nothing more than what he already had possession of, which is the memory of his daughter. The scene ends with a close-up of Wilson’s face that fades into the same plane shot found throughout the film. Now, at the end of the film, we have caught up with Wilson as he reflects on his L.A. journey.


The film The Limey itself—what the audience follows—is Wilson’s memories as he remembers them while reflecting on his plane ride back to England. Thus, we are inside Wilson’s head the entire time, right from the beginning. We do not follow the film’s story, we follow the character of Wilson’s thought process, or rather, his memory of the story. Steven Soderbergh chose to edit the film in this style as a way to dig deeper into Wilson’s psyche in relation to his memory of Jenny. The Limey creates an in-depth analysis of the cumbersome relationship between a mischief-inducing father and his troubled daughter after her death.

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